Sometimes a phrase or lyric pops into your head, who knows why. Earlier this morning, I was sipping coffee on the forward sun deck of my boat, when those oh so famous words by Gilbert O’Sullivan spun musically in my thoughts. Now, while aspects of the story behind this song ring true to my experience, it was not as much the really dark side of this that brought this to mind. It was, I think, the fact that I was by myself. Again.
Now, before we continue, let me state, yet again, for the record, that I’m really happy and doing well on my own. But I will be the first to admit there are times, short bursts of thought, where I actually do wish that there was someone with whom to share things. And this morning was just such a time. It was almost a magical moment, so to speak. Sitting there, witnessing the wonderful view that is the morning sun on calm waters, reflections still, as herons launch into flight. And not a sound, nothing except the occasional creak of the lines on my dock.
Almost instinctively, I turn and sigh outloud “Isn’t this the best?”. To no one. And that’s when it hits. I utter the words of that lyric, alone again, naturally. I shake it off, and continue to enjoy the morning, and as others arise and the dock comes to life, I have very pleasant chats with my friends. While this is the best possible environment for me, it does have its sticky points. Mind you, they are not enough to make me think that I shouldn’t be here. Not even for a nano second! I love living on a boat, and being here for three straight weeks, in all sorts of weather, it has been so amazing. So comfortable. It really is who I am. I was meant to live on a boat and so looking forward to being able to do this virtually full time in more “southern climes” when I retire.
The sticky point is that at this marina, it is virtually all couples. Fortunately for me, I have so many awesome friends here, but they are couples. There are only two other boats, captained by single women, all my age. So, being alone is pretty much in my face all the time. But I was a ready for that. When I made the decision to transition, I was fully preparing myself for a solitary life, being alone for the rest of my life. But at least it would be my life, and I was going to be around to experience it. That’s all good, right? So I can take it. But there are times, very fleeting times that I feel the twinge.
Before anyone leaps up to my defense, I am open to a relationship, and if something falls in my lap, so to speak, I am prepared to consider it, if it’s the right person. And there are many, many people in my corner that insist that I will not be alone for long. It is sweet for them to say so, and I appreciate it. But I live in the present. So every now and again, I feel that little pinch of heart pain. The good news is that I feel it. Better than the alternative!! Ha ha.
The one thing that really makes me feel sad as I type this, is that this is such a common outcome for people who transition. Adjusting to a solitary life. Who would choose that? This is just another piece of evidence for the point of view that this is not a life style choice. No one would go through this to say “oh goody, I’m going to be all alone for the rest of my life”. Nonsense.
So remember this if you know someone who is transgender. We are alone a lot. Friends are more important than ever. Be that friend. If you are trans, I feel your pain. I don’t have the answer. In fact, I don’t have any answers. But I can say that I am here. There are many of us that are here. Reach out, engage, speak up. People in your life can’t hear you if you say nothing. And let them into your life. I did, and I don’t regret it for a minute.